Yep even Ted grew tired as the wagon train just seemed to go on and on for miles. What was it that drove them? This madness of traveling from Boston across the mighty Mississip the open prarie lands the tornado ridden area of Kansas and Oklahoma. The Rio Grande was shear heck as the wagon wheels got stuck deep in the mud and the rear axle broke. Now running along the tumbleweed desert sands of Arizona towards the prize. What was the prize? Was it the delivery of this 575 head of cattle? Was it the woman Jess that was waiting for him at the other end. Ah Jess... yeah... she'd draw Ted a cool bath, scrub his back, wash his feet and fix him up some grub that tasted like a gourmets delight of medium rare steak, mushrooms and onions, freshly sliced cucumbers, corn bread, butter, creamed spinich and to wash it all down a bottle of '68 Shiraz.
Best of all... there wouldnt be a darn bean to be had for miles around Jess's cookin. Dang if they werent all sick of beans. The gaseous mess settled in their bowels probably somewhere back around the Indiana/Illinois line. No more gas escapes as all of us had become immuned to the bubble affects of "cookie's" bean cookin. However "cookie" could fix a mean coffee. Enough to keep us runnin through a 48 hour run across open land.
Ted's cig wasnt even enough to keep him awake...
Ted let out a big puff of exhaustive air, "I think I can close me eyes just for a few moments and let the horses lead on. Its clear up ahead and I wont drift off for lon...."
Awesome composition.